


fix me, or conflict me

by ChiaCat



Category: Teen Wolf (TV)
Genre: Angst, Demonic Possession, Hurt/Comfort, Kidnapping, M/M, Torture
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2014-03-13
Updated: 2014-03-13
Packaged: 2018-01-15 13:24:54
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 5,695
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/1306468
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/ChiaCat/pseuds/ChiaCat
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Set after Echo House, Nogitsune Stiles takes Scott to find out what the Shugendō scroll says about him. Which leads to interesting discoveries, and maybe an opportunity to save Stiles.</p>
            </blockquote>





	fix me, or conflict me

Scott jerks awake with a groan. There's a cutting pain in his wrists and he quickly realizes his hands are bound to the wall above his head. He's slumped down, the chains the only thing holding him up. He struggles weakly to stand, only to notice that his ankles are chained too. Scott finally finds his footing when he hears a laugh to the right of him. “It's about time. I was about to zap you in the ass if you didn't wake up soon.” Stiles steps out of the shadows into the moonlight shinning in through a dirty window. He's holding one of the Argent's electroshock prods.

“Feeling a little weak, Scotty?” There's a crackle of electricity as Stiles flicks the weapon on. “Hunters have such clever little toys. Turn this up high enough and you wolves drop like a rock.” He turns it off again and sets it on a pile of dusty boxes. 

Scott vaguely recalls coming home last night and the agony of something hitting him across the back as he stepped into his room. He doesn't remember anything after that. Scott warily looks around and finds what seems to be an abandoned building, nothing but dust and debris scattered around. “Stiles.” 

“Nope, try again.” 

“Nogitsune,” Scott mutters and tries pulling at the chains with no success. 

“Ding, ding, ding. It's amazing how nothing gets past you.”

“What do you want?” 

Stiles smiles. “I want a lot of things, mayhem, destruction, revenge. Complete and utter chaos. But right now I just want to have a little chat. See, a little birdie told me you think you can kill me and save Stiles. Is that right?”

“I will,” Scott says vehemently.

“You really haven't been paying attention then. Very soon there's not going to be any Stiles left, just us and we.”

“I don't believe you.” Scott flicks his eyes around, looking for anything that could help him escape.

Stiles chuckles and steps in front of him. “I'm not a parasite, Scott. I become one with my vessel. I know what he thinks. I know what he feels, and I have all his memories.” 

Scott keeps quiet and tries to subtly pull at his chains.

“Still don't believe me? Let's see. Remember, what was it?” Stiles treads back, a pensive look on his face. “It was the second week of kindergarten and you were crying over a skinned knee. I told you pain just made you tough 'cause that's what my dad told me. Then I gave you some animal crackers.”

Scott barely remembers that himself. Stiles just grins widely at the look on his face. “Or the beginning of 4th grade some bullies stole your inhaler at recess and we tried to fight them to get it back. We ended up face-first in a mud puddle.” Stiles paces back to him and leans in close to his face. He says softly, “Or after my mother died and I didn't speak for months. You spoke for me, always knowing what I needed, what I wanted.”

Scott turns his head away. “Stop it. This proves nothing, you're in his head.” 

“I'm buried so deep, Scott, how do you know you can get me out without hurting your precious best friend?” Stiles lets the question hang for a moment and then says, “Tell me what I want to know and I'll spare your mother and friends. Everyone except the druid, he should have known better than to piss off a fox.”

Scott clenches his jaw. “Go to hell.” 

“Honey, I've already been. You shouldn't forget that I've seen the very worst that humanity has to offer.” Stiles' grin is vicious as he lashes out, driving a dagger Scott never even noticed into his gut. Scott grits his teeth against the pain, swallows down a yell. “I've seen it burned into something so twisted and wrong it would give your God nightmares.” Stiles slaps the knife's handle sticking out of him. “I wonder what it'll do to your Stiles' mind when I show him all the horrors that I've seen. It's only fair to share my secrets after all. Since I already know all of his.”

Scott's breathing comes in shallow, rapid pants as Stile twists the knife a little before ripping in back out. He can't quite stop the shout of pain as it comes out. Stiles brings the dagger up and Scott can see it shinning wetly in the moonlight. Stiles licks a stripe up the side of it, then lifts his eyes to meet Scott's. “Wanna know some secrets, Scotty boy?”

Stiles throws the dagger and it imbeds in the wall across from them. Then he rushes forward, leaning closely into Scott again. “He doesn't keep that many from you. There's the usual banal things, insecurities, and self-hate. Fears that you won't need him anymore soon, blah, blah, blah.” Stiles walks his fingers up Scott's shirt, pressing in a little when he reaches the knife wound. “But there's one he takes great pains to keep from you.”

Scott tries to jerk away but Stiles brings a bloody hand up, grabbing his chin. Feels warm breath in his ear as Stiles whispers, “He wants you.”

Stiles pulls back on a laugh. “Your best friend has grown to have some deliciously naughty thoughts about you.” He runs his hand under Scott's shirt this time, pushing his fingertips into the already healing gash. Scott cries out, uselessly fighting to get away. “Dreams of hot tanned skin against his. Daydreams of being on his knees while you—”

“Stop! God, just stop,” Scott bursts out, the words getting to him like the pain never could.

Stiles' smile is mocking. “He feels so ashamed afterwards, thinking how if you knew you'd be so disgusted. How you'd hate him.”

“You're lying. You're a sick lying bastard.” Scott says, anger finally winning out over pain and anguish, and he starts fighting to get free in earnest.

Stiles just watches him, amusement clear on his face. “Any trickster worthy of the name knows that the truth can be more painful than any lie. It's one of our most powerful weapons.”

Stiles grasps him around the back of his neck, pulling him closer. Then he kisses him full on the mouth. Scott tries to turn his head, resist, but Stiles just holds on tighter. Stiles bites at his lips trying to get him to open his mouth. It makes Scott go still, a plan forming quickly, and he lets Stiles in. He gets a sound of encouragement and then they're kissing for real. Stiles plasters himself against him, taking his mouth, brutal and hungry. Scott kisses back and it's almost shocking in its intensity.

Stiles pushes his hand up into his hair and jerks Scott's head back, baring his throat, then precedes to suck a wet trail up to his ear. “Tell me what you know.”

His grip slackens a little and Scott sees his moment, striking as fast as he can, teeth elongating as he goes, and he bites down hard at the base of Stiles' neck. Stiles tenses beneath him, but quickly goes still or risks losing a chunk out of his neck. Scott bites down a moment more, wanting to make sure it takes, before releasing him.

Stiles takes a step back and feels his neck, hand coming back with a new coat of dark red blood on it. He whistles. “I gotta say, I didn't think you had that in you. I'm almost proud. Too bad it's going to cost you.” Then he backhands Scott across the face.

“I think it'll cost you more.” Scott feels blood on his mouth and really hopes it's his.

Stiles seems to find this funny, until he stumbles, feet almost sliding out from under him. He snarls. “What did you do.” 

Scott watches Stiles collect himself, leaving only a slightly pinched look to his face. “I gave you your answer.” Stiles narrows his eyes at him and Scott adds, “I changed your host.”

Stiles scoffs. “That means nothing. Werewolves are easier to posses than humans.”

“Then why is your hand shaking?” Scott can't help but grin. “Ever been inside a human newly turned? It completely takes you over.”

Stiles makes a fist out of his shaking hand. “This changes nothing.” 

Scott is so over this and with all his strength he pulls at one of his chained hands. It mostly works, leaving the metal barely connect to the wall. But Stiles gets to him first, grabbing his head with both hands and slamming it back against the concrete wall. Stiles' ashen face is the last thing he sees before it all goes back.

***

Scott wakes up with his head throbbing so bad he's afraid it might fall off. He's still half-chained to a wall and Stiles is nowhere to be seen. He works quickly as he can to escape his remaining bonds, and then has the unpleasant task of figuring out where he is. Without the help of his phone. Stiles must have taken it.

Fortunately he's a werewolf so he just follows Stiles scent until he finds familiar grounds. When he loses it he goes home, finding his house empty. He's surprised to find out he's only been gone a few hours. Apparently getting knocked out repeatedly really screws with your sense of time. Scott grows increasingly frustrated about his lack of phone when he sees a note his mom left him on the kitchen counter. _Scott, went to the sheriff station to help. Call me asap._ God love her.

Scott takes off. He gets to the sheriff station in record time, ducks under the yellow tape and follows the sound of raised voices. In one of the least damaged offices he finds a fight brewing. Sheriff Stilinski and Chris Argent are arguing about what to do with Stiles, while Allison, Derek and his mother seem to be trying to diffuse the situation. They also seem to be having little success. Scott walks in and it's almost funny the instant silence his entrance is met with. Then his mother yells, “What the hell happened to you?”

“No one's going to kill Stiles,” Scott says, both to the Sheriff and Chris.

“Damn right no one is killing my son.” The Sheriff gives Chris a dirty look.

Allison goes over to her father. She gives him a look and then says for him, “We might not have a choice.”

“No seriously, why are you covered in blood?” Scott honestly forgot about that and rubs self-consciously at his face. He shakes his head. “Never mind that, mom.” Everyone is still talking and arguing around him, it's only Derek that's looking at him.

“You bit him.”

That silences everyone for a moment and then they're off again.

“You did what?” 

“Does that mean what I think it means?”

“Did it work?”

“Enough!” Scott takes a breath and only answers Derek's question. “I think it worked, but not completely. He knocked me out not long after.”

Derek's reply is cut off by gun shots, two hitting Derek right in the chest and a third hitting Chris' hand where he'd drawn his gun. Stiles walks though the doorway, gun leveled at his father, who'd also drawn his weapon. Scott makes a calculated decision. One where he's more likely to survive a bullet, and two, the Sheriff is never going to shoot Stiles.

He steps in front of the Sheriff and his mother, blocking them from Stiles. Stiles looks awful, pale and drawn, as he levels the gun right at Scott's head. “Always so willing to die for others, Scott? I was saving you for last.”

There's a flash of black across his eyes, like the Nogitsune can't hide his possession any more. But it's the return of wide brown eyes and the shake of his hand that makes Scott step forward. “Stiles, I know you're in there, and I need you to listen to me. You have to fight. For just a little bit longer. Fight for me. For your _dad_.”

The gun hand shakes dangerously before swinging back up. Stiles points it at his own head and his eyes are pitch black now. His grins is savage. “You should have listened to _me,_ Scott. I would have spared you all. Now you get to lose the one you so desperately tried to _save_ ,” he spits the last word out like it tastes like dirt. There's a commotion of sound behind him, but Scott hears it through a fog. 

“Wait! Just wait, you can have me, okay? Take me instead.” Stiles pauses and Scott is about two seconds from doing something stupid. “Please, I'm begging you!” Then Stiles' eyes clear completely and he yanks his hand away just as the gun goes off. The shot goes wide, hitting the floor right by Scott's feet. Stiles drops the gun from trembling fingertips, and Scott rushes forward to kick it away. The Sheriff is right behind him and gets a punch to the face for it. Scott tackles Stiles to the floor and pins him down. 

Scott looks up and sees the Sheriff beside him with a bloody nose. Allison is helping her father sit up. His mother gets up slowly and comes towards them but Scott shakes his head. “Check on Derek.”

Scott hears a whimper and looks down again, into shiny brown eyes. “S-Scott, you shoulda let him kill me. You shoulda, I can't hold him back, I can't.” There's tears streaming down his face and Scott shushes him.

“It's going to be okay, I got you, I got you,” Scott tells him, not even knowing what he's saying. 

“The full moon.” Scott hears groaned. He looks up and sees Derek barely sitting up with the help of his mother. “He needs to turn completely before he can get rid of it.”

“That's two days away,” the Sheriff says. His voice is shaky and he has tear tracks on his face.

“Is there a cell here undamaged?” Scott asks him.

He nods. “The east ones are fine.”

“We line one with mountain ash then. He's weak enough, it should hold him.” Scott looks down again and there's black eyes staring back at him. Stiles suddenly jerks under him, bucking widely to get him off. Scott holds on while he withers and fights. It doesn't last long, stopping as abruptly as it started. Stiles closes his eyes and breathes deeply. 

“You got any enforced handcuffs, Argents?”

He hears a cling of metal in reply.  
***

Allison badgers her father until he caves and goes to get his hand looked at. His mother takes Derek somewhere to get fixed up too. Deaton comes by and the Sheriff and him line the mountain ash. Then it's only Scott and the Sheriff left to watch Stiles. Stiles goes from screaming insults and painting vivid images of what he'd like to do to them to complete silences. It takes til noon the first day before the Sheriff goes in and gags him. 

In the ensuing silence the Sheriff comes and sits beside him. “I haven't thanked you yet, have I?”

Scott looks over at him in alarm. “Don't,” then adds more gently, “I mean there's no need, but at least not yet.”

The Sheriff nods at that. “Still. You've given me hope. That's a lot more than I had.”

Scott doesn't know what to say to that. Especially considering all he did was turn Stiles into a werewolf. Thankfully the Sheriff changes the subject. “You know your dad is covering for us. It's why this place is empty.”

“I didn't know.” Scott doesn't know what to do with that information either. The subject of his father is emotionally exhausting on a good day. And right now it's so far from a good day it's laughable. 

The Sheriff claps him on the shoulder and wanders into his old office. He stays there the rest of the day.

Scott plants himself on the floor, opposite the cell and doesn't move. Stiles goes completely still and quiet after two in the morning. Scott makes it the rest of the night before he falls asleep. He wakes up a few hours later, panicked, to find Derek sitting next to him on the floor. He hears his mother's voice, talking softly to the Sheriff in his office, and it soothes his jolted nerves. 

Derek looks pale, but otherwise okay for someone who had been recently shot twice. Then again he's probably used to it by now. “Your mother is very bossy.” Is the first words out of Derek's mouth.

Scott just snorts. “You have no idea.”

They sit in a companionable silence after that til Scott breaks. “What if it doesn't take?”

Scott had been slowly panicking about this ever since he noticed Stiles' bite wound hadn't healed fully like it should have. It had scarred over, looking red and raw.

But Derek just shakes his head. “If it was going to kill him, it already would have.”

“But his bite hasn't completely healed yet.”

“Maybe the Nogitsune is stopping it, I don't know. But I do know it's not because the bite didn't take.”

Derek sounds so sure that Scott actually feels a little bit better. “Okay.”

“You should get some more sleep. I'll watch him awhile. You'll need your strength for tonight.”

Scott looks over at Stiles, huddled up in the corner of the cell's cot. His eyes were closed but little shudders went through him every now and then. Scott closes his own eyes and trusts Derek to look after him. 

***

Scott wakes sometime in late afternoon. His mom had brought him some food and Scott eats everything, but barely tastes anything. Someone had ungagged Stiles while he was asleep but Stiles hasn't moved otherwise.

A few hours til moonrise, Scott makes their parents promise to keep back until he tells them Stiles is safe. Then has the Sheriff let him into the cell. He slowly approaches Stiles and takes the cuffs off him. Stiles just rubs his wrists but doesn't say anything or move. Scott, at a loss, sits on the floor and waits. Stiles eventually gets up and stretches a little before sitting on the floor as far away from Scott as he can.

“If I turn into a giant lizard you promise to kill me dead, right?” Stiles sounds hoarse and exhausted. He doesn't look at Scott either.

“I won't kill you even if you turn into freaking Jackson himself.”

That gets Stiles to look at him. He's got dark bruises under his eyes and looks like he hasn't slept in a month. “Wow Scott, that's just going too far,” he deadpans. 

Scott lets out an undignified snort of amusement and the corners of Stiles' mouth twitch in response.

But it doesn't last long. “Scott, promise me something.”

Normally Scott would say anything but he's decidedly warily right now. “What?” 

“If something happens, if something goes wrong, take care of my dad for me. Promise me, Scott. He doesn't have anyone else.” Stiles is choking up, tears falling silently down his face.

Scott has to swallow down the lump in his own throat before he can speak. “I promise.”

Stiles is quiet for a while before saying, “I remember everything I did and said you know. And I keep thinking you should have just let him take that shot. You want to save me, but I'm not so sure there's anything left for you to save.”

“Jesus, Stiles,” Scott chokes out. “No, no, that's bullshit. You fought him every step of the way. None of this is your fault, do you hear me? None of it.” Scott takes a deep breath and adds softy, “You're my best friend. I don't— I couldn't lose you. I can't.”

They're both crying now and Scott wants to touch him but he doesn't know if he can. Stiles wipes his eyes on his sleeve. “I think I killed one of the twins.”

It's such a weird, out of left field statement that Scott laughs. It's really not funny, but the more he thinks about it, and Stiles' sad, mournful tone just makes him laugh harder. 

Stiles starts laughing too, shoulders shaking. “Don't make me laugh, the demon in me might come out.”

Which just sets Scott off again until they are nothing but giggling idiots. It makes the Sheriff and his mother poke their head around the doorway, and look at them like they lost their damn minds. Which is entirely possible. Melissa shakes her head at them, but she's smiling. “I don't think we want to know.”

Scott thinks it's for the best.

***

It's not long after that Stiles starts getting agitated. He ends up pacing the small cell. Scott gets up and tries to calm him. “Hey, it's going to be okay.” 

But it backfires when Stiles eyes flash black and his arm shoots out, grabbing Scott tightly around the throat. It's a minute before Stiles is back to himself, flinging himself away and grabbing at his own head. “Fuck, I'm sorry. I'm sorry. Stay back.”

Scott sucks in air and holds his hands up. “Alright, alright.” Scott feels the familial pull of the moon starting to rise and fights the call to shift easily enough. He watches Stiles intently, waiting for the wolf to overcome him, but nothing happens.

Stiles is rocking back and forth, holding his head. “Something's wrong. Something's wrong, Scott. Why aren't I shifting?” He lets out a loud groan of pain and then starts screaming, falling to his knees on the hard cement. Scott has not idea what's happening or what to do. 

Scott drops down in front of him. “Stiles, Stiles!” Stiles just keeps screaming, still holding onto his head, and then suddenly he stops. “Stiles, what's wrong? Please, just-” Scott touches his arm and is blasted away. He's thrown clear across the cell, back slamming into the wall.

Scott has the breath knocked out of him and it takes him a moment to slowly get back up. Stiles is still kneeling but his hands are down by his side, and he's staring intently at Scott.

“Your eyes,” Scott gasps out. They were glowing green, a pale, pale green. 

“He's gone,” Stiles tells him. “Oh God, he's gone.” Stiles blinks tears away and his eyes are back to their normal brown. 

“You okay?” Scott asks and gets watery laugh in return.

Scott movies tentatively forward and when nothing happens he keeps going, getting as close to Stiles as he can without touching him. Stiles smiles at him. “I'm not a giant amphibian, am I?”

“No, no, you look completely human.” Scott reassures him. He risks a touch, barely brushing his fingertips over Stiles' cheek. Nothing happens and Scott grins. “I'm going to hug you now, okay?”

“Okay.” Scott pulls him in, holding Stiles to his chest, and just clings. Stiles gets with the program and clings back, hiding his face in Scott's neck. 

Scott doesn't know how long they stay like that but eventually they pull apart, though they don't go far.

“Scott?” Stiles asks, “What the fuck am I?”

“I don't know, but we'll figure it out.”

And because he has the absolutely best timing of anyone ever, Deaton walks in, followed by the Sheriff and his mom. “I think I can help you with that.”

***

“I can't believe I'm a fucking fairy.” It's hours later and he and Scott are held up in his bedroom. Scott hasn't left his side, except for when he reunited with his dad. There had been an embarrassing number of bear hugs and tears, and not much else. Stiles knows they're in for a long, emotionally wrenching talk soon. Scott and Melissa had followed them home and nobody had said a word about it. Scott and him had left them drinking coffee on the couch. Truth be told Stiles is really grateful that his dad is not alone right now.

Scott rolls his eyes at him. “That's not exactly what Deaton said. He said you had a 'fae bloodline' and the bite brought it out. He said you could be very powerful!” Scott says earnestly. “You're like a wizard or something. Magic's in your blood.” 

“What is this freaking Harry Potter?” Stiles snarks back, but there's no real heat behind it. Scott has been trying to make him feel better since they got here. It was futile effort and Stiles thinks Scott knows that too, but is trying anyway. It's a sweet thought.

Scott just sorta half smiles at him. “I'll get you a wand?”

Stiles softens enough to returns his smile. “Probably just as well, I don't even know where to began with any of this magic crap.”

“Give it some time. You'll figure it out.”

Stiles nods at him, not really believing him, but also not knowing what else to say. They delve into silence and Stiles, exhausted beyond words, starts getting ready for bed. 

But when it gets time to get into bed Stiles just looks at it. Normally they don't mind sharing a bed if they need too. But after everything Stiles wonders if it'll be weird now. Or if Scott will be weird about it. Stiles looks over at Scott and sees him putting on one of Stiles' sleep shirts. He quickly glances away and suddenly finds his desk lamp very fascinating.

But when Scott gets on his usual side of the bed he can't take it anymore. “So we're just not going to talk about what happened? Right. That's good, I'm all for that.” Stiles knows he's starting to babble but doesn't know how to stop.

Scott looks confused for a moment but then his face clears. “As far as I'm concerned we're good. But if you want to talk about something we can.”

“Right. Okay.” Stiles lets out a deep sigh and sits down on the end of the bed, facing away from Scott. “He wasn't lying, what he said about me,” he says quietly. “But he made it sound so... disturbing. You're my best friend too you know, and I love you like a best friend.”

“Okay, I love you too,” Scott says, like it's the simplest thing in the world.

Stiles puts his head in his hands and huffs out a laugh. “Okay? That's all you have to say?”

“What do you want me to say? That I'm disgusted? Because I'm not.” Stiles can hear him sit up on the bed. “That I hate you? Because I really, really don't.” 

“Only you Scott.” Stiles gets up and walks to the window. “Can learn that his best friend wouldn't mind fucking him and don't give a damn about it.” He chances a glance at Scott and he's looking back at him with a weirdly intent look on his face. “But you're right, it doesn't matter. It's not like a _thing_ or anything.” 

“You know it _doesn't_ have to be a thing,” Scott says, not taking his eyes off him. “Come here for a second.”

Scott looks completely serious and Stiles stares at him like he's finally lost it. “You just did not— Why would you even— You don't even like guys!” he finally sputters.

“You're not guys.” Scott moves untils he sitting on the side of the bed, feet on the floor. “Come here.”

Stiles sees Scott's eyes blink red and realizes what's gotten into him. “I'm not one of your betas,” he snaps out.

“No, but I made you. Just _come here_ ,” Scott commands.

Stiles is sure that's not how this works, but he has to hold back a shudder at Scott's words. “You're getting creepy werewolf possessive right now, just so you know.”

“You love it,” he says and then breaks the spell by smiling sappily at him. It's that more than anything that makes him cross the room. Stiles hesitates in front of him. “You sure? I don't want _oomph_ —” Scott cuts him off by pulling him down, and Stiles falls ungracefully onto his lap. 

“I'm sure,” Scott says and kisses him. It's soft and sweet and nothing like their last one. Stiles finds his balance, and after the initial newness of it, the kiss quickly turns more heated. Stiles lets himself forget everything but Scott, his soft lips and clever tongue. And while he knows he shouldn't be, he's honestly surprised at how well they fit. Stiles breaks away on a gasp, trying to stop himself from grinding down against Scott. They're both hard and breathless, and Stiles is at a loss for how they got here.

“Oh God, did you lock the door? Our parents are right _downstairs_.”

Scott slides a hand down til it's resting on Stiles' hip. He shrugs. “I don't think they'd be too surprised, we've been sleeping in the same bed since we were five.”

Stiles thunks his head down onto Scott's shoulder. “Ugh, don't say things like that.” It makes Stiles think about the fact that their parents walking in on them having sex would be the least traumatizing thing to happen to them all week. Hell, maybe even all month. “Jesus Christ, we need so much therapy.”

Scott makes a noise that Stiles takes as agreement and then pulls Stiles' head back up. He's got a fierce look in his eyes and Stiles gets caught in it. “I can't believe I almost lost you.” Scott kisses him fervently and then buries his face into his neck. Scott softly kisses his bite mark and says, “I need you.” He brings his head up and meets Stiles' eyes. “And I don't care about anyone else you're with, you'll still mine.” Scott rubs a thumb over the scar on his neck. “I've claimed you. You'll always be mine now.”

Stiles closes his eyes and feels a shiver go through him. “Yes.” He chokes out, “Ditto.”

Scott pushes him over onto the bed, and moves down over him. They kiss until their lips are numb and there's no room left to breathe. Scott pushes up his t-shirt and bends down to kiss and bite across Stiles' stomach. Stiles has trouble watching, feeling self-conscious and turned on at the same time. Scott makes his way up his chest and sinks his teeth around a nipple. Stiles manages to pants out, “You're kinda being stereotypical. What with all the biting.” 

Scott doesn't even look up. “You complaining?”

“Not in the slightest.”

“Then shush.” Scott trails back down and starts pulling on his sleep pants. Stiles can't watch so he throws an arm over his eyes. Cold air hits his dick and then Scott's touching him, almost experimentally, and Stiles squirms in his grasp. Scott takes the hint and starts jacking him, slowly at first, and then increasingly faster. Stiles feels like his blood his on fire and he moves his arm away to look down. He sees Scott, watches as his hand circles the head of his cock, and he groans loud enough to get Scott's attention. Scott's gaze is heated, and also kind of shocked. 

“Stiles, I don't think I'm completely straight.” Scott stops moving his hand and just stares up at him.

Stiles groans and slaps a hand over his face. “Congratulations, please tell me you're not having a sexuality crisis right now so help me God-”

“What? No, I was just saying.” Scott perks up a bit. “I want to try something.”

Stiles just waves a hand in relief . “Have at it.”

Scott rummages where Stiles keeps a small bottle of lube, because of course he knows where it is, and comes back to straddle Stiles' thighs. He leans up a bit and slides his underwear and pants down to his knees. Stiles sits up on his elbows and just stares. Because Scott has always had a very nice dick and he can look at it unrepentantly right now. “Can I try to blow you later? Like is that an option?” Stiles blurts out before he can stop himself. 

Scott's eyes widen a little but he hurries to say, “Yes. That could be a thing I— yes.” Stiles tries not to laugh at his fumbling response, finds it too endearing.

Scott lubes up his hand and a little on himself before leaning downs to kiss him. Stiles is a little out of it so it takes him a minute to get what Scott plans until he's thrusting down, their dicks sliding together. Stiles groans at the feel of it and Scott breathes out, “ _Stiles._ ” Scott kisses him where ever he can reach. Stiles' grip tightens on his hips when Scott wraps a hand around them both, moving it along with his thrusts. Stiles helps as best he can, breathlessly keeping in time to Scott's set pace. He comes first, pleasure hitting him hard and Scott jacks him through it, his come making the slide easier. 

Stiles ties to catch his breath as Scott backs up a bit and jerks himself off, wrist blurring in movement. He watches Scott throw his head back and comes on a bitten off cry, his come splatting on Stiles' dick and lower stomach. Scott falls down onto him, going boneless and Stiles just wraps his arms around him. His fingers pressing patterns into his back.

Scott doesn't stay too long before lifting up, and Stiles makes a face at their mess. After a half-assed wipe up and rearranging of clothes, Scott lays down next to him. Stiles watches him turns his face into the moonlight and close his eyes, a reverent look on his face.

Stiles almost doesn't want to break the silence, but asks, “What's it feel like?

“It pulls at everything in me. To be nothing but instinct and emotion. Sometimes it's all I can do not to listen to it.” 

“Sounds amazing and awful at the same time,” Stiles tells him, pulling the covers over both of them. He's so tried his fear of sleep is starting not to matter.

Scott turns over, curling around his back. “It brought me here, and that's more than enough.”

Stiles takes Scott's hand resting on his stomach and intertwines their fingers. He finally lets that anchor him off into sleep.

**Author's Note:**

> Title taken from Panic! at the Disco's "Hurricane."
> 
> And any feedback is very welcomed.


End file.
